A Little Shove
by MKofGod
Summary: “This,” Jess declared, standing barefoot in her kitchen, “Is ridiculous." Jessica confronts Sam.


**A Little Shove in the Right Direction**

**MKofGod**

**~*~*~**

"This," Jess declared, standing barefoot in her kitchen, "Is ridiculous. There, I said it."

The silence echoed.

She slumped against the counter with a groan. "Now, if I could only say it to _him _and not an empty room I'd be perfectly happy. Ecstatic even!"

Jess thunked her head gently against the cabinets behind her.

After the thousandth time Sam dodged her mother's subtle questions about his family, and after the ten thousandth time Jess had to smooth out same haunted look from her boyfriend's eyes after a family friend made a few too many pointed questions, Jessica had had enough.

It wasn't that she minded Sam keeping things to himself. She had expected _that _when she started dating him. Sam was a very private person and she respected that. She loved him for it even.

He let her have her space, never asked for much. Most of the time, Jess strained her brain to figure out what Sam needed. She'd gotten pretty good at anticipating a melancholic mood or a crash. She knew how to make his favorite meals, when to jump in on his ranting when he was feeling frustrating, how to sooth him when he was ready to commit murder, how to hold him when he had a nightmare and when to back off because she wasn't welcome, she wasn't allowed.

For the last two years her job had been making sure the sweetest, kindest man in the world had everything he needed – even if it meant doing something that he didn't know he needed. That he didn't want to admit he wanted.

Groaning, she snatched up the phone dialing her best friend's number a little deliriously. "Becky? It's me." She sucked in a breath. "C-can I come over?"

~*~*~

"Okay, Jess, what is it." Becky demanded, thunking the cup of coffee in front of her. Jess sipped the coffee silently, eyeing her friend over the rim. Becky narrowed glittery eyelids, her painted mouth pursing. "Jess… I canceled a date for this." When Jess still didn't speak, Becky leveled a significant look at her. "A date with Blake, Jess." And as if Jess still didn't get it, she continued. "My _dream_ boy. Ringing any bells?"

Jessica sighed, setting down her mug. "I'm going to call Sam's family, ask them to visit."

Becky paused in mid sip, eyes wide as she sucked in a lung full of coffee. "You're –" cough "Going to—" wheeze, "Do what?"

"I know!" Jess groaned, slamming her head on the table.

"Jessica Lee Moore!" Rebecca hissed, leaning over the table. "You don't know anything about them. There has to be a _reason _Sam never mentions them and you know it."

"Sam mentions them!" Jess replied defensively.

"Oh right." Rebecca snorted. "Only to say that he doesn't talk about them or that they aren't the 'Brady's'" She made quotations in the air. "I mean, for all you know, his dad could be some blathering drunk…person… who abused Sam! Or a serial killer!"

"Rebecca!" Jess snapped.

Becky paused. "Okay, that was a _little_ harsh. But come on, _Jess_!" The name was drawn out, pleading.

"Sam needs this." Jessica said firmly. "He loves his family, Becky. A lot. He has an older brother who he idolizes – even I can see that, and he's only mentioned the guy _twice._ I don't know anything about his dad, but people like Sam don't get raised by murderers."

"And abusers?"

Jess paused, mind flashing to scars that she traced at midnight and nightmares which she would _never_ even _consider_ telling her friends about. Then she snapped back into the present, where the hint of victory in Becky's eyes spurned her on. "He wasn't abused, Becky."

Rebecca sighed, lowering her coffee. "Obviously calling the in-laws isn't what has you worried then."

"Obviously." The tension drained out of the room. Jess took a sip of her coffee – black, with a ton of sugar. She felt calmer after defending her idea to her friend. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Becky replied. "So – what's really on your mind."

Jess toyed with her mug. She'd hoped when she got here that Becky would be her sounding board, even be able to play Sam for a bit so that Jess could work out all her arguments. But now that she was sitting here, her friend in front of her, hair done up in exquisite knots for her night out, eyes all-knowing, the pictures of her perfect family behind her, Jess wondered if her friend would be able to understand. Understand the pure _pain _and longing Jess saw in Sam's eyes when she gushed about her brothers. Understand the childish awe that came over him when they had something as simple as a thanksgiving dinner, or _Christmas_ _presents_.

She didn't know if Becky could understand the thousand invisible cuts, bruises and lingering scars Sam hid under messy brown hair and a sheepish smile.

Wounds that had become so visible to her over the years.

Wounds that were all directly related to a family that he so clearly loved.

"Idon'tknowhowtotellSam." When she finally spoke, it came out in one big long rush. Then she cringed. Great. Now she'd have to say it again.

Becky screwed up her face. An eyebrow – carefully plucked and darkened – rose in confusion.

"What?"

See? So predictable.

Jess breathed deep. "I don't know how to tell Sam." This time she spoke lowly, forcing each word.

Becky blinked, staring at her friend in shock. "_That's_ your hang up! Telling Sam?"

"Yes!" Jess groaned, her head crashing to the table again. "He's gonna get so _mad._"

"Jessica, I haven't seen you and Sam fight like… ever!" Rebecca's eyes were wide. "You guys are so perfect it's enough to give me cavities!"

Jessica eyed her in consternation from the tabletop, her squashed cheek crinkling her eye. "You just say that because you don't live beside us. This isn't like when I put Sam's mattress on the dorm roof because I was mad at him. This is Sam's _family._"

Rebecca shook her head as if to clear it. She raised her hands in a calming gesture. "Okay, step back for a second." Becky sighed, splaying her hands on the table. "Why are you doing this?"

Jess propped herself up on a hand to stare down into her half empty cup. "Sam has made me the happiest woman in the world." She started, twisting her cup back and forth. "I love him." Her eyes darted up to meet Rebecca's steadily. "I love him more than I've loved any guy, except my dad – but that doesn't count, 'cause he's my dad and…." She twisted her cup again, tilting it downward to stare at the black coffee inside. "Sam loves me. I mean – according to Zack he worships the ground I walk on." Blue eyes darted up wryly before lowering to stare at the clouds in her coffee. "And this is the first thing that I can do for him that doesn't include making his favorite meal and…" She quirked a smile. "…whatever else."

Becky watched her silently as Jess returned to toying with her cup. Becky raised hand to her eyes, long pianist fingers brushing across the rough glitter. She wanted to refuse – really. She did. She'd been trying to catch this guy for three years. Rebecca knew Jess wouldn't blame her – It was Thanksgiving, Olive Garden was just around the corner, and Rebecca had found the _sexiest _little dress that showed more leg than it hid… But… Sam and Jess… From the first time the two met in that little restaurant/bar during freshman year, everyone had known those two were meant to be, even if the subjects in question were as oblivious as characters in a bad soap opera.

If there had ever been a fairy tale romance - if there'd ever been a couple who deserved Happily Ever After - it was them.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Becky sighed. "Tell me what you want me to do."

~*~*~

Sam watched her, amused, his head following her movements steadily.

Jess was pacing.

She was also staring at him from the corner of her eye every time she made a round through the living room from the kitchen.

And she was trying to hide her pacing by checking on the oven, even though he knew there was nothing baking. He'd checked – twice.

Oh yeah, and he couldn't forget that there were several piles of his favorite cookies stacked in the kitchen. Food was Jess' favorite form of bribery.

Which led to one conclusion: "Hey Jess…"

His girlfriend yelped, tripping over the excess of sock that hung off her foot to slam into the doorway. She flew back and hit the lamp stand and collapsed into a puddle, hands flying to her nose.

Sam darted out of his seat, sliding to her side. "Jess! Are you okay?" His alarm would have been more credible if his voice wasn't tight with laughter. Jess pushed herself up against him, fingers delicately pinching her nose.

"I'm 'ood!" She gasped, pinching the bridge. She flushed. "Embawassed, I t'ink I broke my nose, an' 'm never wearin' sox aga'n, but 'm o'ay!" Her face screwed up as she wriggled her nose, trying to assess the damage.

Sam snorted a laugh and bit his lip to stop himself from breaking into a grin. Jess glared at him. "T'ank you berry much Mister Sympat'y!" She snorted, a bloody snot bubble making its way through.

"Sorry." Sam hiccupped, snickering. Jess rolled her eyes and scrambled to find her feet. She wiped away a hint of blood that trickled from her nose over her lip. Sam tried to sober up as he grabbed a tissue to help her. "You've got to admit though. It _was_ funny." He smiled widely. "I should have filmed it."

Jess hit him playfully with her free hand, the other still pinching her nose. Careful fingers pried her hands away as Sam looked it over. "It's not broken." Sam said, voice carefully controlled.

"Dat's goot."

"Mhm." Sam frowned. "It doesn't hurt, right?" The glare she shot him would have killed a lesser man and Sam bit back another chuckle. "Right. I'll go get the painkillers."

~*~*~

Jess sighed, slumping down beside him on the couch. "How's your nose?" Sam asked, tucking her in against his side. His hand sifted though her hair as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

"It's fine." She gingerly fingered it. "A liddle sore, but I've had worse."

"Hmm… I can tell you're going to be talking like a three year old for a while." He quipped. Jessica rolled her eyes tolerantly.

They sat in silence except for the sappy romance songs playing over the radio that Jess _loved_ and Sam pretended to hate. The station eventually switched from Pop Culture to the weather, the noise droning on and on in the background until Sam turned it off. Sam cleared his throat. "So – are you going to tell me what's been on your mind?"

Jessica tensed. She stayed facing forward, but her eyes flitted up to him. Sam nodded sagely. "That bad, huh?"

"Well… it's not _baaad…"_ Jess procrastinated, propping her chin on his shoulder. "_But_… you're not going to like it."

"Let me guess… you put my mattress on the roof again, forgetting that we now share the bed." Sam smirked. "And now you need my help getting it down again."

"No doofus!" Jess muttered, slapping him lightly on the chest. "Besides – I only do that to people I hate."

"Right. So when you did it to Zack and Blake back in freshman year…" Sam lifted an eyebrow.

Jess shot up. "You helped with that, remember! You were the one who put surround rap on their toilets. And you were the one who hung their underwear outside! I only did the T.. _And _I had to get you away from the stupid essay."

Sam laughed, lifting up his hands. "Dude, don't get so defensive. Seriously Jess – what's wrong."

Jess slumped down against him, burying her head in his shoulder.

Here it was, ladies and gentlemen. This was for _allll_ the nachos.

"_Iwannainviteyourfamilyoverfordinner."_

Sam paused. "Huh?"

Jess slowly lifted her head to peek at him from where she'd buried her face in his side. "I want to invite your family… for dinner?"

Silence…

Sam's entire body tensed, his hand clenching involuntarily to pulling her hair. Jess ignored it, focusing instead on the way his eyes seemed to bore hot holes into her.

"Sam?"

"No."

They spoke simultaneously. Jess tensed, her fingers tightening on his shirt. She wasn't hurt by his abrupt response – _really, _she _wasn't_. Wouldn't be. "Can you tell me why not?"

Sam drew into himself, coiled like a cat ready to spring away at any sudden movement. Jess moved away slowly, trying not to spook him. "Sam – they're your family."

"Jess, I don't talk to them!" Sam wasn't shouting yet, but it was brewing. His voice was low and tense. "I haven't talked to my dad in four years."

"Sam…"

"No, Jess!" He jumped up, spinning around to glare down at her. "This is none of your… I can't…

"Why not, Sam!" Jess rose to her feet. Forget calm and gentle. She was tired of him blowing her off. "Tell me why it is that you can't even _talk_ about them!" Her jaws clenched tightly. "I think by now you know you can _trust me_!"

"When I left my Dad told me to never come back. _He_ slammed the door behind _me_."

Jess's heart clenched. She hadn't forgotten that. But still…

"So what? You're going to let that haunt you for the rest of your life! You're stronger than that, Sam! And what's more, this stubborn… he-man pride is _hurting_ you!"

"I am _not _going to go crawling back and say I'm sorry." Sam snarled, stepping into her space.

"Good!" Jess shot back. "I wasn't asking you to!"

Sam stopped short. He watched her for a second, head cocked like a cat examining its next meal. Jess forced herself to meet his keen gaze. "If I call him, it's saying that he was right, Jess. That I regret coming here." Sam said tightly. "I'm not going to give him that satisfaction."

"Do you regret it?" Jess demanded. "Do you regret coming to college?" _Do you regret coming to me?_

"What?" Sam looked genuinely shocked. "No!"

Jess nodded firmly. "Then you're not crawling back." Sam opened his mouth but she cut him off. "You're not going back with your tail between your legs, Sam. You're bringing him here with your head high! You're showing him everything that you've managed to _accomplish_, and saying "I did that_."_"

Sam set his jaw. "You don't know my Dad. He won't see it like that."

"Because you won't let me! And you never know!" Jess exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "And what can it hurt – you don't speak to each other again for another four years?"

"You don't understand!" Sam yelled. His eyes were dark, the green shadowed.

"Then explain it to me!" Jess shouted back, getting into his face. "Because I don't understand, Sam. Usually people talk about their parents! Usually people don't cringe whenever brothers and family _jobs _come up! _What_ could your father _possibly_ have done to make you hate him so much?"

Sam looked stricken. "I… I don't hate him."

"Then what is it, Sam!" Jessica demanded. "'Cause right now, that's the vibe I'm getting is that you detest the guy!" Sam's jaw clenched. He couldn't meet her eyes, even when Jess tilted her head up. Her eyes flitted across his stony face, trying to read him. She gentled her voice. "So tell me, Sam. Is there something I should know? Because if it's something like him hitting you, or… something… then I will drop this subject and never ask to meet them again. But if it's your pride that's getting in the way – then I am making that call." Sam glared at her, but Jessica pressed on. "Because this – _this_ is _killing_ _you_."

Sam let out a small keen from somewhere deep in his chest, all the fight sweeping out of him. He looked away, focusing on the city lights outside.

Jessica's heart broke.

In the space of a second she was hugging him, biting back her own tears as she felt silent sobs shake Sam's body. Hot tears dripped down her neck and Sam was squeezing her so _tight_ she couldn't breathe.

Jess ran slender fingers though shaggy brown hair, rocking slowly on her heels as she hummed a lullaby. They stood there until their strength gave out – or rather, until Sam's strength gave out and he sank against her, and Jess, unable to hold him up alone, sank to her knees. Sam curled up against her, like a small wounded animal searching for a hiding place. When the burn in her back and legs made themselves impossible to ignore, Jess leaned against the couch, her arms taking him with her. It felt like hours until his breath slowed and evened, his tears giving way to quivers. .

"I'm okay…" Sam said finally. "I'm okay."

Jess would believe him more if he wasn't speaking into her shoulder. Releasing one had that had clamped like iron around him, Jess reached behind her for the afghan. She wrapped it around them both until they were snuggly cocooned. The house was silent around them, the wool scratchy against her skin. Sam was lax against her, his head hidden in the hollow of her neck, warm wet breath tickling her neck.

She was exhausted. "Today's been a _loong_ day."

He gave a half chuckle that ended up as a huff of air. "Yeah…" Sam straightened. "Let me think about it, okay? I promise – I'll think about it."

Jess looked at him, tilting his chin so she could meet his eyes. "I love you, Sam."

He nodded silently before moving away to his study, shutting the door quietly behind him.

~*~*~

Sam handed her his cell phone silently the next day, the number marked _Dad_ already dialed in.

Jess nodded silently. Normally she would be crowing her victory from the rooftops, but this time she didn't feel the triumph that normally came with winning an argument against him. Right now… she felt numb.

Gathering up her courage and forcing herself to regain a spunky attitude, she dialed the number.

Sam looked up at her when she brought the phone to her ear, and a sudden burst of excitement made Jess beam at him. Sam smiled back slightly, his eyes darting to the phone pressed to her ear.

The ringing cut off abruptly.

"_Yeah?"_

The voice was young and rough, and absolutely _nothing_ like she's expecting. "Er…Hello, is this John Winchester?" She asked even though she knew it couldn't be. Sam tensed, eyes latched onto her like he was a drowning man and she was his only rope.

"_Sorry, sweetheart. This is Dean."_

Jess smiled. "Dean." Sam looked up sharply, eyes lit up like she'd never seen them before except for the first time she told him she loved him. Suddenly she was grinning into the phone. "Hold on a second. There's someone who wants to speak to you."

Sam panicked, green eyes flying wide, telegraphing a thousand jumbled excuses. But she'd already shoved the phone into his hands and it was too late to hand it back.

As much as she would like to be the one dropping the bombshell, Sam needed this.

"Dean?" Sam asked breathlessly. His knuckles were white as he gripped the phone, and after a second, she heard a tiny, indistinct voice come through the speaker. The smile that spread across his face – wide, brilliant, all teeth – as he sank into the couch made her chest hurt.

Jess slipped out of the room, smiling.

_Mission_ _accomplished_.

~*~*~

_Finis_

_~*~*~_


End file.
